Win the Prize, Keep the Prize
by Selema.C
Summary: The worst thing about secret girlfriends is that when they get hit by cars you're not supposed to cry.


**_Win the Prize, Keep the Prize_**

A/N: For the puckrachel drabble meme. All mistakes mine.  
Prompt: The worst thing about secret girlfriends is that when they get hit by cars you're not supposed to cry.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

* * *

Santana thought Rachel Berry was acting strange. Well, stranger than usual.

She remained the same egotistic and bossy girl we all new and loved – tolerated, really – in Glee: ordering everyone around, claiming solos like her life depended on them, telling them that if they didn't do better then her dream of being on Broadway would be shattered. She was still focused during class – at least, during the classes Santana was also in – and always scribbled down notes in her neat handwriting. She continued to wear summer dresses and cardigans – a great turn from plaid skirts and knee-socks.

She was also chipper and upbeat everyday.

Why Santana thought all this was fucking weird? One word: Finn.

The 'Golden Glee Couple' had part ways not long ago and yet Rachel was smiling her showcase smile, not an inch of it fake, and skipping through the hallways. The Cheerio would have thought that the boy Rachel fought for from the beginning of Sophomore – the boy she finally got in the end – was worth a few tears and a sad face once he was gone.

So Santana started watching Rachel Berry closely for any sign of sadness. None. At all. It was like Rachel felt only two emotions: happiness and anger. But she _did_ discover something else – the _reason _why Rachel was so cheerful.

And boy, was it a shock.

...

She was neatly placing her Algebra text book in her locker when she felt two warm and familiar hands still her hips from behind. She let out a small squeak of alarm and surprise but she knew full well who it was.

A kiss was pressed to her collar bone before a trial of kisses started up her neck. She started to lose herself in the sensuous kisses before she realized that they were still on school premises - while school was still in _session_ too.

As she closed her locker, he nipped at the edge of her jaw and she fought back the urge to moan.

She whirled around to see the grinning face of her boyfriend no one knew of. She had seen the smirk thousands of times before but yet it was always so difficult to resist. Still, they were in school and this wasn't the most appropriate place for a make-out session. "Noah -"

She didn't get more than a word because his lips were on attacking hers, pushing her back against the lockers with his hands still at her waist. Her arms wrapped around his neck, the corners of her mouth curved in a wide smile, and he closed in the small space between them – so close she could smell the intoxicating scent of his alluring cologne she loved.

Finally she was able to unclasp her arms and push him away although she hated when the presence of his lips were gone. "Noah, we're in school!" she hissed to him. In a panic she glanced around the hallway but it was only occupied by the two of them.

"So?" he nonchalantly asked and then leaned in to kiss her again. This time she's able to stop him by pressing a finger to his lips.

"So, we'll get detention which will go on my personal record and I doubt Idina Menzel nor Kristen Chenoweth - whom are my idols and big Broadway stars - have such a delinquent so I won't even make it to Broadway or off-Broadway or _off-off_-Broadway so I'll have to stay in this cow-town and get a lower-class 9 to 5 job to make a measly profit but will end up quitting because I feel so useless and will have to live alone in a small box on the dingy streets with a stray rabid cat called Mr Whiskers as my only companion."

"Okay, okay," he irritably said, taking her hand away from him so he could talk freely. "Man, way to cockblock me."

"I'm sorry, but I thought we wanted to keep this secret for a while," she said in her defense.

"No, _you_ wanted to keep it secret," he bitterly corrected.

Surprise overwhelmed her for a moment. He thought she wanted to keep it secret? In honesty, she hated keeping the secret and pretending they didn't share this electric connection when all she longed to do was sit next to him and hold his hand and have him whisper sweet-nothings (or lewd comments – she didn't really mind) into her ear. She wanted to declare to the whole world that she was dating Noah Puckerman and that their sad pathetic lives could not compare to hers because she had the most amazing man in the whole world!

… Or say something along those lines. But she couldn't, out of fear that it was all going too fast for Noah. He had never been in a committed relationship before – if that was even what they were (she hoped so because the thought of Noah kissing anyone else was mortifying and heartbreaking) – and she knew that, as much as she wanted to, she couldn't push him into making a decision he wasn't ready for.

But what was this: he was saying he didn't want to keep it a secret? "Really? You want us to go public with our relationship?" she coyly asked, raising her eyebrow. She tried not to get her hopes up. "Because you do know you would have to face the consequences of us doing so."

"What consequences?" he asked, shrugging one shoulder.

"Jacob will follow us around, trying to get interviews and exclusives," she told him, reminding Noah of when Jacob had interviewed all of the Glee Club members at the beginning of the new academic year for gossip.

"I'll punch him if he gets that close to us," Noah countered.

"So then he'll slander us on his blog with false statements," she knew this from previous experiences.

"Another punch in the face for him."

Remaining serious, she continued, "Santana will call you by retched names when you behave well for my benefit."

"Her calling me whipped doesn't mean shit to me," he insisted.

"What about the Jocks? I'm positive they'll say the same things. Not to mention that I'm not the most popular girl in the school and being seen with me will -"

"Those are all shitty consequences, babe," he interrupted her. Normally she would be displeased but she wanted to hear what he had to say. "I don't give a shit about any of them. And anyway, all I can think of are the _benefits_ of going public," he added.

Curiosity filled her as she tried to think of the benefits Noah was thinking of. Obviously there were many – but they were benefits for her. Like having the pleasure of his presence next to her, keeping her away from harm – like the spiteful Cheerios and Neanderthal Jocks. But what was he thinking of? It's then she realized his thumb was slowly running small circles at her waist; he was waiting for her to speak.

She leant into him, away from the lockers, and their eyes locked. "Like?" she breathed out. She doesn't mean for it to sound sexy but somehow it did and she's not taking it back.

"Like I get to sit next to you all the time," he lowly whispered. "And kiss you in the hallway," his hand found a way to the small of her back. "And see the jealous faces of all the guys at McKinley because they'll all know that: Rachel Berry? She's _mine_."

They were only inches away from each other. The bangs of her hair brushed against his forehead as he slowly leant down. His velvety lips caressed hers for a second and he swiftly went in to deepen the kiss.

"Wait," she mumbled.

"Why?" he roughly asked. His lips brushed against hers again.

Warily, she brought her hands to his chest to push him away. He moved back, only slightly, and looked at her expectantly with annoyance and concern in his eyes. "It's just that- If we -"she took a deep breathe, "Does this mean you're my boyfriend?" she uncertainly asked, desperately wishing she hadn't been fooling herself.

Gently, he tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Rach," he told her with a comforting smile that sent tingles down her spine.

This time it's _her _to kiss him. She kissed every inch of his face, afraid that any minute she might wake up from this wonderful dream which is definitely too good to be true. He franticly kissed her back, just as urgent, his hands on her hips and holding her close.

All too soon they break away when they suddenly hear a clatter. Flabbergasted, she looked from side to side of the hallway, looking for the source of the suspicious sound. Her chest was rising and falling but she quickly caught her breathe. She glanced back at Noah who was always curious as to where the sound had come from.

"What the hell was that?" he asked in confusion. He was aggravated that something had interrupted his make-out time with her.

"I'm not sure," she truthfully answered. "I think it was from inside one of the classrooms." She turned to Noah. "Speaking of which, why aren't you in class?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Uh, I could ask the same to you."

Rolling her eyes, she said, "I have a free period."

"I have Math – so I was in the Nurse's Office, sleeping, but I kept having this dream about you -"

"Noah!" she squeaked. Blood rushed to her cheeks in embarrassment.

"What? S'true."

After recollecting herself, she, sadly, told him, "The bell's about to ring and everyone will see us alone here."

"But I thought you said -"

"Tomorrow," she promised him. Tomorrow they'd all know.

"Okay." He sighed. "I should get going, then."

"Call me tonight?" Rachel asked in anticipation.

He smiled at her and nodded. "D'you want me to pick you up from Dance Class?"

"No, I can drive myself. But may I ask you for one thing?" He raised an eyebrow. "Goodbye kiss?"

"Don't have to tell me twice," he smirked and crushed his lips against hers.

Again, they separated all too soon. She left first, hips sashaying from side to side for his benefit. With a coy smile she glanced back at him and when he winked a shiver ran down her spine.

...

He sighed back onto his untidy bed with rumpled covers. Rachel would have had a fit if she saw the state of his atrocious room. He's a guy – he doesn't _clean_.

But Rachel would want him to. She would never step foot in his room if it was this messy. Sighing again, he got up to refine what he could of his clustered room. It was just discarded clothes he had forgotten to (correction: was too lazy to) put away.

On the dingy blue carpet are a few stray papers. He picked them up to examine them and saw they had music notes on it. Oh right, he had been memorizing these before for Glee. It was strange how much more work he had to do in Glee. More solos, duets. More time having to play his guitar.

He shouldn't be so surprised: he is, after all, dating Rachel Berry whom believed Glee Club was first priority. He didn't really mind because, if singing more in Glee was what made Rachel happy, then he was fine with it.

No one knew why he had been more attention in Glee because he and Rachel had wanted to keep the whole thing on the down-low. Why get everyone interested in something that was he business of no one's but his and Rachel's? Plus it was kind of hot, sneaking around like that, making sure no one found out.

It was odd how all of it started. He still couldn't figure out how they had gone from barely tolerating one another to suddenly full on making-out on her bed. No, he was exaggerating. For a few days they had been in between, one waiting for the other to make a move to defy which way they went.

Strangely, it had started with tutoring. His grades were miserable and dropping quickly – mostly because of all the school he had missed during his time in juvie – and things were threatening to get so bad he would be suspended from all extra-curricular actives. Meaning Football and - more importantly - Glee. Once Rachel had found out, she immediately offered to tutor him. He didn't really think she was offering because he was special or anything, just because without him it would only be 11 people in Glee which was not enough for New Directions to participate in Sectionals.

For a few days they actually studied – some shit Puck didn't need to know. But there had always been some sort of electricity between them, drawing them closer together. Then, one day she invited him to her house to study instead of the library. When she invited him up to her Polly Pocket/Holly Hobby room was when he had decided to go with his gut and just kiss her.

Rachel was like kryptonite to him. Normally he was against relationships because he was _sex shark_ but Rachel had gone and screwed up his perspective. Next thing he knew, they weren't just fooling around but going on dates too. He was calling her everyday, they were talking about their day and all couple-y stuff like that. Scratch that, they really _were_ a couple.

Tomorrow, everyone would know. It would be official that Rachel Berry was _his_ girl and no one else's. Not Finn's, not that dick Jessie St Jerkface, but _Puck's_. Truth be told, he was really excited about it.

He thought back to previously that day in school. Her uncertainty to let everyone know about them was really unsettling. Did she not want to let anyone know? Did she think it was all a mistake? He shook the disturbing thoughts out of his head. No, she wouldn't think that.

He preoccupied his mind by thinking of Rachel in her hot dress and the way she had sashayed her hips side to side for his benefit. She had looked back with a sly smile – she had been around him for too long – and he had cheekily winked at her which made her cheeks flush red. He only wished he had gotten some more time with her before they had been startled apart from some ruskus in the classroom.

That had been weird. Normally you couldn't hear shit that went on in the classrooms unless the kids in their were really rowdy (aka when they had a substitute who wasn't Ms Holiday) but yet they had heard the fall of stationary. He instantly forgot about the suspicion when he remembered the way Rachel had looked when they jumped apart: her chest heaving up and down melodramatically, her lips pink and swollen.

Keeping to his promise to call her, he took his phone out of his pocket (the only safe place where it won't get lost) and dialed her number which he already had memorized. Abnormally, she didn't pick up on first ring like she usually did. The dial went on and on but she didn't pick up. He tried it again and it ended with the same result.

Maybe her Dance Class had been held up late? Or she was driving home at the minute and couldn't answer the phone. Uneasy feelings stirred at the bottom of his stomach but he brushed them away. Rachel was probably just taking a shower. (Yeah, that was going to distract him.)

Just then his phone rang and he jumped up to answer it. "Noah- hi," said a hesitant voice. Unfortunately, it was not Rachel but his Mom.

"Hey Ma," he unenthusiastically said. "Listen I can't talk right now, I need to call Rachel." His Mom and Rachel's Dads were the only ones who knew of him and Rachel. Not by his choice, but because Rachel was insistent that he had dinner with her Dads and then somehow he found himself introducing her to his joyful Mom.

"Noah, I really need to talk to you," she insisted. He frowned, wondering why his Mom was calling. Shouldn't she be working in the hospital right now? It must be really important because if he ever said Rachel needed this or that then she would be willing to get out of his way for him to do it.

"What's up?" the panic in his voice could be heard.

"Um, sweetie," she began. Instantly Puck knew it was horrible news. He recalled the last time she had spoken those simple words. At eight years old he had asked his Mom when his Dad was coming home and she had tearfully replied, "_Um, sweetie, your Dad isn't coming back to Lima."_

"Sweetie," she continued, "about Rachel…"

...

Her Dad called her and told her that one of her friends from Glee was in the hospital. You see, her Dad is an important doctor at the shitty hospital in Lima. He's always working and she hardly saw him at all but still found the time to see her perform for Sectionals. "It was that girl," he said, "the one who sang all the solos."

Santana nearly dropped her phone in shock. _Fuck,_ Berry was in the hospital. She never really liked the girl but she never hated her wither and didn't want to think about her all banged up and bruised. But Rachel would make, it was certain. It was _Rachel Berry_, for fuck's sake! The girl was, like, unstoppable.

Still, Santana asked her Dad how the hospitalized girl was. "She's not that bad," he said, "considering she was just in a car crash."

(Though she's not religious, she still thanked God.)

Why was she the one to first find out about this? She wasn't friends with Berry; they didn't even _talk_ to each other. Obviously she was happy Queen Gleek wasn't really hurt but there were others in Glee Club who would be happier to know about this.

Like Puck. Fuck, why had she forgotten about him and the thing between him and Rachel? It had all been confirmed earlier that day when she had found herself eavesdropping in on their conversation at her locker. They had looked so fricking cute it had made her want to throw up.

It had been a close call and she had nearly been caught eavesdropping when all pens and shit fell out of her locker. Why the hell had she left it open? Luckily Puck and Rachel were just so stupid they didn't think someone was had been listening in. They should be glad it had just been her and not Jewfro instead. That dweeb would have posted it all over his Gossip Girl blog. Like that mattered now that Puck and Rachel were planning on telling everyone.

There was some voice in her brain telling her to call him. To tell him about his girl who was now in hospital. What was that voice again – oh yeah, her conscience. It hardly emerged but when it did she had to listen to it.

"_This is the Puckster. Talk when you hear the beep and, if you're hot enough, I'll call you back_."

(She scoffed. Santana wondered what made Rachel put up with him. Sure, he was great in bed but it was just so aggravating to put with him and his egotistic attitude. She also wondered why Rachel hadn't made him change his message yet but then realized it would bring unwanted attention if he suddenly changed it to something like, "_This is Noah. Please your message after the beep and I will call you back immediately when I have time. Thank you, have a good day."_)

Leaving a message was easier (for her, maybe not for him when he finally heard the message) and she was grateful. "Yo, Puckerman," she started, keeping it casual with no trace of fear or panic, "get your ass down to the hospital, asap. Berry's been in a car accident. She's alright but I thought you'd wanna know."

She cringed to herself. Man, what a way to tell a guy his secret girlfriend had gotten into an accident.

Her gaze fell on her car keys on her bedside. Should she go see Rachel…? If Puck didn't get the goddamn message then Rachel would only have her Dads at the hospital with her. Sighing, she called up the rest of the Gleeks.

...

He held himself together, not willing to break down. Not because he thought he would be acting like a pussy – but because he knew that once he started the tears they wouldn't stop.

The bastards at the hospital hadn't let him go in and see her. "She's not well enough," they had told him. Well, fuck them, he should see for himself and decide whether or not she was well enough. He was tough enough to scare the weedy doctor out of the way so he could get into Rachel's hospital room.

But he found himself attached to the plastic and sickly orange chair. His feet were rooted to the ground, as if unwilling to move. The fear slashed against him. Fear that Rachel was bloody and bruised. Fear that she blamed him for the accident. Fear that she may not live tomorrow to alert the world what a badass couple they made.

Why hadn't he insisted he pick her up? She had said no but he should have still driven her home. He was her boyfriend, after all.

Or maybe he wasn't her boyfriend anymore. She probably hated him for not being the good boyfriend and driving her home like he should have, that way she would have never gotten hurt.

It was all his fucking fault.

He took a deep breathe and felt a lump in his throat. He choked back the tears and then took his head in his hands. He didn't want anyone to see him in so much pain.

Unexpectedly, he felt someone place a hand on his shoulder. It was soft and gentle, just like Rachel's touch. Immediately, he jumped up but his hopes instantly fell when he saw it was only Santana Lopez.

"What the fuck do you want, Satan?" he snarled at her.

"Chill out, I was only trying to comfort you! You looked like you were _crying_," she said.

"I wasn't crying, Lopez. Why the fuck are you here, anyway?"

He didn't get the answer he was looking for because suddenly the rest of the Glee Club had found them. What the fuck were _they _doing here? Had his Mom called them too? Or maybe Mr Berry had.

"My Dad told me, so I called them," Santana answered his unspoken question. Why the fuck had she done that? And why hadn't she called him too?

"The Nurse said Rachel's room is in there," Finn interrupted, nodding to the room on the left. "Are we allowed in?"

"Well, I wouldn't be standing out here if we were, would I?" Santana irritably said to him. Finn looked away sheepishly.

Most of them settled into the plastic chairs while the others stood around. They all had masks of worry on their faces. But that's all they were: masks. Normally they didn't give a shit about Rachel; they all thought she was too stuck up, with a stick up her ass. Whereas him, he cared for her. Legit. Even if Rachel hated him now.

"I hope Rachel's okay," Finn mumbled.

Puck's furious eyes darted to the outrageously tall boy. "Like you would care," he bitingly said. Why was he even here? Finn had hurt Rachel, broke her heart a million times over the past few years.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Finn narrowed his eyes.

"It means that you broke her heart, over and over again, and you never cared if she was okay _then_." The rest of the Club was watching them now with curiosity.

"You don't know anything about me! I _do_ care for Rachel – I loved her!" Finn retorted. "And it's not like you care if she's okay? You used to slushie her!"

"Don't you dare turn this to me, Hudson. You don't deserve to be here!"

"And _you_ do?"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Make me!"

He was inches away from punching the fucktard in the face. He didn't think about Rachel or how she'd react when she saw the black eye Finn had.

(_When_. Not _if_ because Rachel wasn't going to die – not if he could help it.)

Finn raised his eyebrows so high they nearly went up to his hairline. There was no longer a trace of anger on his face. "Dude, are you _crying_?" Finn asked Puck in bewilderment. What the fuck?

Puck raised a hand to his hazel eyes and realized unnoticed tears had escaped them. He could feel a whole river of them waiting to break out of the dam. He looked around and saw the whole of the Glee Club was staring at him incredulously. This was the first time they had seen him helpless.

(He hoped it would be the last time too.)

"Fuck you," he told Finn. "You're a bastard and you never deserved her."

Those were his last words before he fled. He wanted to get away from them and their judgmental eyes. They didn't understand. They just saw him as a Lima Loser. But Rachel, she knew him. And all he wished for right now was that she was with him to give him one of those irresistible smiles.

In anger (at the world, at Finn, at _himself_) he punched the wall. His fist collided with the tough cement and he felt the pain shoot through his arm. _Fuck_. That really hurt. The pain was immense but then he thought about how much pain Rachel must have gone through when she crashed and it dulled.

He sat down on the floor and leant against the wall. He cradled his hand which he thought was broken, or at least fractured. Good thing he was in a hospital. He was just about to let all the tears flow out when he saw Santana approaching him.

"Hey," she said.

"What do you want?" there was no anger in his voice, just annoyance. All he wanted was to be alone.

"To talk," she answered him. Santana sent next to him on the dingy floor. Whatever she wanted to talk about must have been important if she was willing to get her Cheerio skirt dirty. "I know about you and Rachel."

"Figured out that quick, did ya?"

"I've known since this afternoon, when I saw you two making-out in the hallway." _Oh_, so that explained what that noise had been.

"So what, you want to tell me it's all a mistake or something?"

"No, you obviously love her if you're crying about her." He looked away from her then. _Love_? Yeah, he guessed the feelings he felt could be considered as love. "And I'm sorry, you must be feeling like shit. But this is Rachel Berry we're talking about: she's gonna live."

"Yeah," he nodded.

"And she's going to be _pissed_ when she finds out you nearly got in a fight with Finn in a fucking _hospital_."

"Yeah," he repeated, laughing. Leave it to Santana to make him feel better.

"Noah?" he looked up and saw his concerned Mom. "You can see Rachel now."

...

It was insulting that she couldn't leave straight away. Didn't they see she was _fine_? Notice the perfect sight, award-winning smile, movable arms and the fact she can wriggle her toes? So why couldn't she just _leave_ this retched hospital with the too lumpy mattress and disgusting strong smell of sanitizer – much like in Ms Pillsbury's office – and pale unsightly walls?

But _no_, she had to stay overnight. Those nurses were foolish, and so was that man who called himself a doctor although he deserved to be in High School.

She didn't voice her complaints when she caught sight of her pale fathers. They almost blended in with the walls. Worry was all over their faces, even when she told them again and again she was absolutely fine. They remained cautious until she finally started talking about the horrible smells of the hospital. Then they had smiled, knowing full well their daughter was the same as always.

They gave her some privacy when Noah walked in. "Hey," he softly said.

"Hi," she brightly replied back. He cautiously approached her.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine. Better than all the doctors think but yet they won't believe and insist I stay overnight." He didn't chuckle like her Dads had done, just sheepishly nodded. Her eyes zeroed in on his badly bruised hand and her eyes widened in shock. "What happened?" she hastily asked.

He frowned in confusion and then realized what she was staring at. "Oh, uh, I punched a wall."

"You _punched_ a _wall_," she repeated. "I can't even begin to imagine _why_ you would do such a thing…" She shook her head and reached for his hand. She tenderly kissed the bruise and he didn't flinch away.

She looked back up and their eyes locked. Her eyes fluttered closed as he ducked his head down and then pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was so gentle and soft, as if he feared she was as delicate as glass and the slightest hasty tough would shatter her into pieces. It was unfamiliar but it was Noah kissing her, so she welcomed it.

He pulled away and her eyes opened again to see there were tears in his eyes. She let out a small gasp of surprise and took his face in her hands. "What's wrong?" she whispered. She had never seen him like this: so vulnerable.

"I'm sorry," he said through the tears. "I should have been there. I should have picked you up- I -"

"Shh," she hushed him. "Noah Puckerman," she continued, looking at him directly in the eye so he knew she was speaking the truth, "It's not your fault. I was the one who wanted to drive home, you were just letting me have my space like the good boyfriend you are."

"But I -"

She shut him up by kissing him. She had been dying (not _literally_) to do that all day. "I would have thought you learnt something when I tutored you but apparently not because you're a complete idiot to think I would blame you for what happened."

"Maybe that's because we spent most of the time making-out instead of studying," he chuckled. Her smile reached up to her eyes; she was glad he was laughing again. Then the chuckle died in his throat. He gulped and then said, "I thought I was going to lose you."

All she wanted to do was get him to smile again. She let go of his face and clasped her arms around his neck. "Don't worry," she coyly said, her lips inching closer to him, "You've already won."

**_~Fin~_**


End file.
